A post that isn't about my kid!

So, I'm sure you've heard that adage about the definition of insanity, or perhaps it is not so much an adage as it is the actual definition of insanity, but I'm too tired to look it up. Anyway, so apparently the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Something like that? Well, I was folding laundry and crying yesterday, when I realized that technically, what we are doing with this house on the market is insane.  I mean, not just silly, or annoying--not even stupid, or maddening.  But BAT SHIT CRAZY. 

And the worst part, is that it's self inflicted.  No one has had a gun to our heads for the past three years forcing us to let hundreds of strangers walk through and judge our abode unlivable. So I sucked it up and gave myself a pep talk, which went something like this, "Oh my gawd emily, what the hell is wrong with you. People live in Darfur. Seriously. Your life is awesome, so quit being an entitled whore." This is actually my go-to pep talk btw. Welcome to the inside of my head.

So then I started to think rational thoughts for a few minutes, and decided that I can't have it both ways.  I can't be involved in this clearly-masochistic-at-this-point process of selling my house, and then feel sorry for myself when I get a last minute showing on my "mommy-Kelan day" no matter how much detailed planning I had done.

Because, once again, let me explain to you that selling your (old character) house (without a garage) in this market (if you can't afford to take a 10-20 grand hit), is hell. Or, to express my feelings in the form of a Jerry Maguire quote, "An up-at-dawn, pride-swallowing siege, that I will never fully tell you about." Which works, because I was literally up at quarter to five steam-cleaning the carpet in my basement, trying to hide the fact that yesterday's rain storm caused a mysterious wet mess in the basement that neither Sean nor I want to even think about because we just spent a ridiculous amount of money replacing our water heater last month, and we gots mouths to feed and cats to vaccinate and we can't see Kelan's eyes underneath that mop of hair on his head.

So the crux. Am I stubborn enough to fight the universe on this one? Do I keep smiling at strangers who stop in front of our house to peer into the windows? Do I address the fact that the neighbors might want to not live next to the house that is forever on sale?

Truth?

We haven't decided yet. 

But it's kind of fun to laugh about. I don't know what I would do if my life suddenly became predictable. Probably not laugh as much I guess, or for that matter, not cry into mismatched socks as often. And who wants that?